


Flight

by Miko_Doll



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Angst, Dissociative Disorder!Hiro, Hiro suffering from mental disorder, M/M, Slash, Somehow, Yaoi, hidashi, i don't know how to tag, if you squit really hard, not-Tadashi oc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 19:57:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4234620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miko_Doll/pseuds/Miko_Doll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We didn't ask for more than nothing. Nothing is all we asked for. Because nothing last forever. <br/>But at the same time nothing is impossible.</p>
<p>Somehow, Hiro lived two lives. A life as Hiro Hamada who went to SFIT, lived with an Aunt and a cat, had four close friends, and couldn't get over the death of his brother. The other one was a life as just-Hiro with not-Tadashi when Hiro was pushed to the back of his mind. Hiro and just-Hiro both oblivious to each other, live a life they didn't know and did some things they didn't remember. But in the end, they lost the same thing and did the same mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flight

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt for this fandom, so be nice to me, please? Umm... the kaboom part I repetitively mentioned in this story was inspired by a tag from tumblr, from bigherosixfeels. Go look at that blog because it is hella cool!
> 
> Special thanks to my best friend Ruezvel (Rue) for proof reading this and correcting mistakes. I also have read this twice but if there any mistake, well, we're human, right?
> 
> Enjoy~~
> 
> Disclaimer: Big Hero 6 belongs to Disney

Flight

_There is lapses and gaps in my memories._

_It confuses me but doesn't scare me._

_Maybe I was just dreaming._

~Flight~

Hiro's back was collided with wall which smelled like dried urine and decayed garbage. Someone forced his lips onto his, kissing him feverishly and sloppily and he kissed back with equal fervor and enthusiasm. Big, warm hands roamed about under his T-shirt, rubbed and pinched and scratched. The hands had long-long-long, thin fingers, nimble and lithe and seemed to know where to rub-rub-rub, where to poke-poke-poke, and where to scratch-scratch-scratch. A knee was grinded on his crotch, grind-grind-grind, elicited an embarrassingly high pitched moan from his lips. It felt good and his body was on fire-fire-fire. His limbs were like jelly and head as light as feather. It must be how marshmallows felt when they were swimming in hot cocoa; warm, hot, limp, and sweet-sweet-sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet.

The lips, which tasted like liquor and cigarettes, smirked against his. This person pulled his face away from Hiro's and kissing his jaw line. Hiro thought he heard this guy--guy? A person with XY chromosome was making out with him in an alleyway? What a joooookeeeee--asked him something but he paid no attention, for the sensation his body felt was amazing and he wanted more-more-more. In addition, he contemplated on throwing a hissy fit if this person stopped whatever he did with his tongue, and lips, and fingers, and oh sweet gummy bears that knee worked wonder!

Maybe he pushed this taller guy once because he was slammed back to the wall and the knee on his crotch was pushed deliciously harder, sending sparks of pleasure down his spine and he gasped in delight. He wanted to pout. It was rude. But the knee grind-grind-grind and his head was lolled front and back and right and left as the result. The world was sway-sway-swaying around him.

"Hey! Listenin' yet?" The man's voice was low, raspy and beautiful. The kind of voice girls would swoon over. "I said; what is your name?"

It took ten seconds for Hiro to comprehend the question. He opened his eyes that he unconsciously closed, everything was hazy, blurry and confusing, like looking up underwater where everything was distorted in a funny way. But water was cool and refreshing, while his body was on fire-fire-fire. FIRE!! "Hiro..." He gasped.

"Hiro." The man repeated, rolled the 'r' rather sensually. Hiro kept staring, trying to memorize the stranger's face, drunk in every single details he could see like that cute tiny mole beneath the corner of his lip. Hehehe... a mole. Cute. Can guys be cute? "Well, fancy to meet you, Hiro. I'm--"

"Tadashi." Hiro cut him off. The man's sugar brown eyes widened. "Your name... is Tadashi." It was true. That face was belonged to Tadashi, no one had those big nose like he did. He knew it was Tadashi because knew a Tadashi like he knew the back of his hand. Wait, he needed to confirm whether there was a mole on his index finger or not. Nonono, that was beside the point. Where was he? Oh yeah Tadashi. Tadashi and his sugar brown eyes. Taaaaaa~daaaaaa~shiiiii~

"Tadashi, huh?" Tadashi licked just unded Hiro's ear, made the boy mewled as response. "I can manage with that."

~Flight~

When he opened his eyes, he stared blankly to the ceiling. His head was buzzing and a bit light, his body was sore, and he was tired and sleepy and his bed was really warm and comfortable. So yeah, Hiro Hamada pulled the warm blanket higher until it reached his button nose and rolled to his side, decided that today was fuck-school day. It wasn't like he wouldn't pass those classes he was going to miss today, though. He was genius and he knew it and those professors knew it too and his classmates were way more comfortable without him within their eyesight. He was doing a favor for every human in this world; less carbon dioxide for the earth, at least.

But it seemed like Aunt Cass didn't know his heroic plan. "HIROOOO!! BREAKFAST!! AND YOU HAVE SCHOOL TODAY!" Or more likely, she knew his super heroic plan and heavily against it.

Hiro groaned and yelled back a muffled; "Five minutes!" Then added under his breath; "Just lemme sleep."

"NO! YOU GO DOWN NOW! AND IT MEANS **NOW**!"

Another groan, the child prodigy finally surrendered, tossed his blanket away and rolled off the bed before he fell unceremoniously with a loud thump. Aunt Cass didn't make any shrill comment on that, perhaps she already knew her lazy bum of a nephew had gotten up.

He groggily searched about his room, mostly his floor, for a presumably fresh and clean T-shirt and pants appropriate enough for college. He descended the stairs afterwards, almost tripped twice due to his refused-to-be-opened eyes. He blindly walked to the bathroom and washed his face on the sink, trying so hard to get rid of this stubborn sleepiness. When he looked up to the mirror, he cringed at the panda eyes he got and wondering what time he went to sleep last night. He yawned, and his morning breath made him frowned in disgust. Sweet lord, it was sickeningly odious. And was that his T-shirt he was wearing? Because he swore he didn't like Mozart and said guy was smiling so solemnly on it. Moreover, it was way too oversized and smelled like nicotine.

Huh, weird.

He threw the T-shirt to the laundry basket, though. Ten minutes later, he got out from the bathroom with his presumably fresh T-shirt and pants appropriate enough for college, sober face, and mint breath. He couldn't do anything with his black hair, though. Once untamed, untamed it shall be. Furthermore, he was too tired to care about his hair now. Honey Lemon would brush it regardless his protest anyway.

"Ready for the day, baby?" Aunt Cass asked as he put the bowl full of Hiro's favorite cereal right in front of his face.

The messy haired teen shoveled the cereals into his mouth. Gulping it down like a starving hobo who never saw a cereal before. "Absolutely." He deadpanned.

~Flight~

"My name is Ted, anyway." The not-Tadashi helpfully informed him at their second (was it second? was it third? was it first?) encounter.

Hiro was in a 24 hours supermarket when it happened. He had been out after dinner to go somewhere. But halfway through the way, he got confused. Where was he going? From where was he? Home? Did he get one? Aaaah~ what a draaaag. So he walk-walk-walked aimlessly until he reached the supermarket which he forgot the name once he stepped in and read anime magazines.

Not-Tadashi was happened to be there at the moment and decided it was such a brilliant idea to hug him from behind, kissed the back of his neck and whispered huskily into his ear; "This is your Tadashi, Hiro darling."

And oh yeah, it was such an amazing idea because the big, warm hands that flattened on his stomach was really something and that lips were oh so endearing, not to mention the husky whisper which made butterflies in his stomach did erratic pirouettes, spun-spun-spun graciously around and around . Did he mention Tadashi was his? Because yes-yes-yes he was absolutely riiiiight. Tadashi was his, nobody else could have his Tadashi. Taaaa~daaa~shiiiii~

"Ted Henney. Teddy for nickname." He finished happily, nuzzling his slim neck. But Ted was a weird name, and Teddy was awful. Tadashi was a beautiful name, sounds heroic and mighty, contained a righteousness philosophy. Hiro decided Not-Tadashi was way better to refer to the sugar brown eyed man. "Oh."

Not-Tadashi laughed and released him. Hiro frowned. He shouldn't have do that! He supposed to hug-hug-hug and gave him warm-warm-warm and fuzzy-fuzzy-fuzzy feeling until his body was on fire-fire-FIRE again. But he forgave not-Tadashi once the older man spun him to face him and smiled this tooth-aching sweet smile. "So, Hiro, got a last name I could remember for further information?"

Last name? Did he have one? Wait, of course he got one. Hmm... It started with 'H', he supposed, the same initial letter as in not-Tadashi's last name. What a nice coincidence. Could he be Hiro Henney? Pfft... sounds stupid. "No," Hiro shrugged, "just Hiro."

Not-Tadashi was smirking now. Oh dear holy robots, he wanted to kiss-kiss-kiss that smirk away so he probably could taste the nicotine on his tongue again. "So, just-Hiro, what do you say about greasy pizza? I think you fuckin' need it to give that cute ass of yours a bit meat, don'tcha think?"

Not-Tadashi and just-Hiro. What a cute couple. Riiiiiight?

Hiro smirked one of his sassy, shit-eating smirk. "Sounds cool."

~Flight~

Hiro and his friends were in Wasabi's car at the moment. They were from that new Karaoke Box at the different side of the city. They had sung, screamed, and cackled like a lunatic doing satanic ritual for two hours before Fred, that crazy dude with house as big as Versailles castle yet wore the same boxer for more than a week, declared he wanted to eat Pizza. Wasabi then said they'd better grab one on the way home because it was almost dinner time and they got an underage kid to be driven home.

Thus, twenty minutes shy from Lucky Cat Café which belonged to Aunt Cass, Honey Lemon suddenly said; "Hey look! It's a pizza restaurant! Should we try it?" All eyes were directed to said pizza restaurant and Hiro wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Bleh, the pizza there is too greasy and the interior sucks. I'm against it."

"Eh, really?" Wasabi asked, looking at the rear mirror to make eye contact with the youngest of them all. "Have you been there with Tadashi once?"

Had he? With Tadashi? He shrugged nonchalantly. "Nope." He said. "But the pizzas there are greasy."

They ended up having dinner in Lucky Cat.

~Flight~

Okay... Okay... Today was fuck-school day. No one could say otherwise. Nooooooo! Hiro rolled to his side, cocooned himself in the warm blanket which smelled like apples. He was drained, out of energy, tiiireeeeedd aaaas fuuuuuccckk. Wait, fuck? Mm...yeah. He remembered being fucked slow and hard, tender and rough, by someone with sugar brown eyes. His body was on seventh heaven, and he remembered the bliss and ecstasy and the blazingly hot temperature. Aaaah~ it felt sooo gooood~ seemed like he was going to have a luscious dream. What a BLAST! Hehe, sounds so hilarious.

Hmm? What was that? That annoying scratch-scratch-scratch voice that savagely roused him awake. Ugh! He couldn't sleep because of that! How dare this noise agitate him! The annoyed teen opened his eyes and scowled. First at the alien dim bedroom and secondly at the figure who sat at a chair, grazing his pencil idly against what seemed like a book.

Scratch-scratch-scratch....

"Stop it!" He growled. The thin, long fingers abruptly went rigid. "I can't sleep because of that." He begrudgingly grumbled as he pushed himself to a sitting position. Ng? Where was he? Gee! This room was way messier than his own. Nonono! Whaaaat? He stared down at his bare chest and belatedly realized that he was stark naked under the blanked. It's freakin' cold, dammit! How the hell did he lose his clothes? Crap, he just used a foul word. He had to put a quarter to the swear jar, ugh. Hum? Who made that rule? It was Taaaa--

The man chuckled, pulled him out of his train of thought and attracted his attention to look at this stranger's face--oh... _Oh_.

"Good morning sleeping beauty." Not-Tadashi set aside his sketch book on a bedside table, knocking down some things on the process. "Just for your information; it's three in the morning and you have slept since ten."

So he was at Not-Tadashi's room. So Not-Tadashi, who wore a pair of jeans was topless and showing off his luscious muscular body, was the one who made that scratch-scratch-scratch noise. So he was with Not-Tadashi since... since when? Wait-wait-waiiiiit! So those lips and tongue and teeth and those delicious long, thin fingers had touched him? Had sent his body to seventh heaven? Aww... He didn't remember! It was unfair!

Not-Tadashi raised one eyebrow amusedly at Just-Hiro's death glare and pout. He laughed, walked toward his bed and toppled beside the teen, one hand heavily fell on Just-Hiro's lap. "What makes you annoyed, Hiro?" He purred his name, caused his fingers to twitch. Not-Tadashi pulled Just-Hiro down, maneuvered their position so that the younger one was on his belly on top of him. Blanket slipped down from Just-Hiro's body as a result.

"It's cold." He complained.

Not-Tadashi laughed. "Okay, okay."

He threw the blanket over them and Just-Hiro instantly snuggled, ready to fulfill his fuck-school day plan and went back to sleep. However, the older guy hiked him up a little and kissed him affectionately, grazing his teeth occasionally and teasing his tongue. Mm... he still tasted like poisonous nicotine. It was nice and tasty. Hmm... scrumptious. His long, thin, nimble fingers idly made nonsense pattern on his back. They stayed like that for ten minutes, kissing with fervor and passion. Slow but demanding, tender yet intense.

The younger guy placed his head on top of half-Asian guy's chest afterward, right above his beating heart.

Thud-thud-thud it went. Steady and calming. Like a lullaby for babies, made just-Hiro's eyes fluttered shut.

Thud...thud...thud...

~Flight~

"Hiro, honey, is this yours?" Aunt Cass asked, held out a T-shirt with monstrous skull printed on it while several others dangled on her forearm. Hiro pried his gaze away from his laptop screen and frowned at the T-shirt, a bit vexed by the skull's impolite glare. The one Aunt Cass held out was about Wasabi's size, and the rest of it was probably more or less the same. Even more, the words and pictures which were printed on them was not Hiro's style.

"No. They are way too big to be mine."

"I agree," She sighed. But I found these at your room! And I doubt Tadashi wore this kind of scary-looking T-shirt. Wait--" The café owner sniffed at the T-shirt before she glared daggers at her nephew. "Did you smoke?"

"What? No!"

"Let me sniff your breath."

"I'm not smoking!" Hiro complained, trying to break free from his aunt grasp.

"Let your breath proves that." She forcefully cupped Hiro's chubby cheeks. Hiro, knowing there was no way out, sighed exasperatedly and breathed out.

"You're not smoking." Aunt Cass admitted. She tried to look nonchalant but Hiro's glare made her uneasy so she smiled apologetically. "Maybe this belongs to one of your friends?"

Hiro rolled his eyes incredulously, "You know Tadashi's friends aren't smoking!"

~Flight~

Just-Hiro just stare-stare-stare at the cigarette which stuck between a pair of smooth lips. It produced grayish-white smoke which danced gracefully on the air for a while before faded. It was the same with incense which was often lit up. The only difference was the smell; cigarette's smell was awful while incense fragrance was like flowers. He didn't like cigarette because of the smell, it was odious. Likewise, he also loathed those incense in his house because they made him sad. Just-Hiro didn't want to be sad. Hmm? Why it made him sad? Hmmm....

He was in Not-Tadashi's garage, which was actually a garage turned gallery, with said man was in front of him, making scratch-scratch-scratch sound with his pencil and sketchbook. He used glasses this time, and his brows were knitted, indicating that he was focusing on his drawing.

Just-Hiro knew that nothing could break his concentration, not even an earthquake or tsunami. He knew because-because he knew Tadashi. Tadashi was like that. But-but-but this was not-Tadashi so maybe he was different? From who? From Taaaa~daaa~shiii~? But the person in front of him was Tadashi, right? Right. It had to be. Just look at this guy; neat short black hair, thick eyebrows, brown sugar eyes, big nose, thin lips, prominent ears, sun-kissed bronze skin. Who else was this perfect beside Tadashi? He was Tadashi... If only that cigarette and that teeny-tiny mole below the edge of his lips were absent...

Unconsciously, the sixteen years old teen flicked the cigarette away, sending it to the garage's dusty floor, then rub-rub-rub that mole, hoping it would vanish.

Not-Tadashi chuckled, "What are you doing?"

Blink-blink-blink... "Huh?"

"I said; what are you doing? I understand if you throw that cigarette away but why are you rubbing the side of my lips?"

Oh... "Trying to wipe that mole away?"

Not-Tadashi laughed again, he grabbed just-Hiro's hand and brought it down, massaged the back of his hands with both big thumbs. "Hiro, baby, this mole is what makes me sexy." He said as he smirked.

The mole was still there. It was still there. Dammit. Now Tadashi would have a mole! Tadashi without mole was Tadashi and Tadashi with his so-called sexy mole was Not-Tadashi. But-but-but there was only one Tadashi! There was only one Taaaa~daaaa~shiiiii~

"It makes you look like a Moron McDoofus." Just-Hiro said, somewhat angrily. He didn't like to be confused.

Said Moron McDoofus barked out a laugh, threw his head as he did so. He shook his head as his laughter died down, kissed the back of just-Hiro's hand afterwards. "You know I'll be Moron McDoofus for you."

Just-Hiro frowned. He didn't need Moron McDoofus. He needed Tadashi-not-Tadashi-Taaa~daaa~shiii. "I don't want it." He spat.

Not-Tadashi laughed again, shook his head again. "so, Hiro, tell me what you think about this?" He pushed his sketchbook, showing an old sketch of Hiro which just-Hiro never see before. He had seen all sketches of him, he even had posed for not-Tadashi on some occasions. But this sketch was made before he met not-Tadashi, probably around three months ago, because the backpack in the sketch had been thrown away around that time.

"When did you make this?" He asked, peered up toward the beaming guy.

Not-Tadashi grinned bashfully. Just-Hiro wanted to kiss-kiss-kiss those blushing cheeks vigorously. "Three months ago, maybe?" Just-Hiro raised an eyebrow, demanding him to elaborate. Upon seeing this, the older man licked his lips, ran a hand through his hair before rested it on the back of his neck. "Okay... I'll confess, I already know you since three months ago. I saw you walked aimlessly at night, near the police station and then, I was attracted to you." Not-Tadashi sighed deeply and hung his head before he whispered dreamily, "You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen." He shook his head,

"And then, now I know you, know your personality, you're just--just perfect."

_Hmm..._ Just-Hiro thought idly.

But Taaa~daaa~shiii~ was way way way more perfect.

~Flight~

Lunch time was Hiro's super-mega-ultra favorite hours ever! College was fun, sure, but he didn't really enjoy sitting through classes and listening to the professors droning on and on about something he already knew. Of course, not all lecturers were boring but he preferred spending time in his personal lab and tinkering with new inventions. So, yeah, sitting on a picnic table with his friends at lunch after bored his mind out was really refreshing.

Fred smacked the back of his head, caused him almost dropped Aunt Cass’ mouthwatering chicken sandwich. He glared daggers at his friend after he managed to save his lunch from corrupted by bacteria from the dirty grass in the nick of time. "If you do this again, I swear I'll destroy your room. He said with voice as vicious as he could manage.

The self-declared school's mascot cringed when he imagined his room where all of his treasure was blown. "Sorry, dude," he said as he plopped down beside Hiro and circled one hand around the boy's shoulders. "I just happy to see you here, safe and sound, without scratch I could see."

"Yeah?" Hiro shrugged the lanky guy's hand away, he didn't like being half-hugged when he was eating. “"You speak like you never seen me for ages. Let me remind you, we meet everyday beside weekends."

Honey giggled. "Yeah, he's right, Fred. Stop exaggerating!"

"Nonono!" Fred waved his hands comically fast. "I saw him at a club last night with a guy. I want to say hi, but he went away with this guy. And when I tried to follow him, I was lost in throng of human bodies. You know people there was rowdy."

Wasabi's eyes widened. "What? Hiro in a club? Dude, how did you even get in there?"

"Wow surprise, surprise," Hiro mocked a shocked expression, "I was about to ask the same thing!"

"So you're saying," Gogo said, getting more and more impatient because the truth was delayed too long for her liking.

The young genius sighed as he rolled his eyes ludicrously, "Look, I can't get in any club, yet." He said slowly as if he was explaining really important thing to a bunch of idiot.

"I'm sixteen!"

~Flight~

"So what if you're sixteen?" Not-Tadashi asked.

Just-Hiro sipped his chocolate blend happily. It tasted so creamy and yummy and tasty and he wondered if he could get the young adult in front of him to buy another one. He probably bought it for him the moment he asked, though. Not-Tadashi was happy to see him sucked beverages from straws. He looked so sexy, he said. "It means you're seven years older than me. It means, I am way too young for you. It means I am underage. It means, people would frown upon us. And yadda-yadda-yadda."

Not-Tadashi groaned desperately, banged his head on the table simultaneously. "But you know I like you, right? Like, really really really like you!"

Sruupp-sruuup-sruuup… ng? Aah... his chocolate blends was no more. Could he order another one? He really want that blend with caramel. Sugar-sugar-sugar he needed sweets in his system so bad now. Would Not-Tadashi got vexed if he ordered more blends? He licked his lips, and thought of licked-licked-licked the man's lips. It would taste as sweet as the blends he lusted after. Could he? Could he?

“It's true I was attracted to your beauty at first, but--" not-Tadashi raised his head. Oh sweet lord, now Just-Hiro really wanted to kiss-kiss-kiss that pout. Tadashi always looked cute when he was pouting, he didn't know it would go with Not-Tadashi too. But-but-but Not-Tadashi was Tadashi. Because-because there was no two Tadashis. There was only Taaa~daaa~shiii~ "It's not just about the sex, okay? I got too carried away that time; you were so cute and all. No! This is more than that! I--"

Cake. Yes, Just-Hiro really wanted cake right now. Blueberry cheesecake. Mmyeah…. Sounds appetizing. It was Tadashi-Not-Tadashi-Taa~daaa~shiii~'s favorite. Maybe he would smile again and wouldn't look at him with his puppy eyes and desperate expression. Someone with Tadashi in their name wasn't allowed to get desperate because they supposed to see for new angles! He didn't like that helplessness in that exquisite face.

"I think I'm falling in love with you."

_Oh?_ Just-Hiro stare-stare-stare at Not-Tadashi. Thinking. Maybe not. But he was in an urgent need for a slice of blueberry cheesecake right now! He didn’t want to see vulnerability. Nooooo! He wanted to see smiley-smiley-smiley and smirk-smirk-smirk. Could he order one now? Pleeeaase?

Did he wait for his reply? "Well, duh, I'm sixteen and we're both males."

"It doesn't matter! I am more than willing to take any risk for you!"

There was inferno inside Just-Hiro's belly. His head throbbed painfully and everything was on fire-fire-FIRE! He felt like standing in the middle of fire, like running toward a blazing building and then it went KABOOOM one second later, burned him alive into ashes.

"You're an idiot." He grumbled through his teeth furiously. Forget that blueberry cheesecake. Not-Tadashi would not get any of it! No. nu-uh. NEVER!

"I'll be your idiot if you say yes to me." The older guy said. Tone and eyes were dead serious.

Now Hiro was scared. It was the face of determination and the last time he saw Tadashi-Not-Tadashi-Taaa~daaa~shiii~ with that kind of expression, everything went KABOOM! If everything went KABOOM then all of it would turn into ashes and there was nothing left for just-Hiro to hold onto. Even not for Hiro! He tap-tap-tapping his heel on the floor, worrying his lower lip nervously.

"I don't need an idiot." He hissed, somewhat furiously, somewhat panicky. If- if that KABOOM happened, what should he do? How could he stop it?

Not-Tadashi licked his lip. "I'll be your genius then. I mean, like-- I'll be anything you want me to be."

But Just-Hiro didn't need anything, an idiot, or a genius. He needed he wanted he longed-- "I don't need any of it."

A pause, a bafflement. Not-Tadashi needed explanation. It sounded like a rejection and he might cry if it was. But-but-but how would he explain that everything or anything would go KABOOM? A hero would go KABOOM. An idiot too. A genius too. He didn't need something that went KABOOM. It was terrifying, horrifying, hideous, and-and-and he didn't want to be alone-lonely-lonely.

"I--I need--" --wanted, longed, lusted, craved-- "nothing." Nothing. Yeah-yeah-yeah it was right. Nothing couldn't go KABOOM and become ashes or disappear because it was nothing! He needed it.

Another moment of silence, a brief confusion and hesitation before finally, a smile slowly formed and Just-Hiro wanted to throw Hiro away so he could kiss-kiss-kiss Not-Tadashi forever-and ever-and ever. The older man took his hand with both warm hands and kissed its knuckles dearly. "Say yes, Hiro." He said, smiling all along. "I'll be your nothing."

Badump-badump-badump just-Hiro's heartbeat went. Fast and erratic. He still tap-tap-tapping his heel and now his knuckles which were kissed were itched. He wanted to bite and graze his teeth on them.

Badump-badump-badump...

Itch-itch-itch...

Tap-tap-tap...

~Flight~

Aunt Cass had been complaining about how Hiro always came home late and never notified her, in addition, he also never answered her calls or replied her texts when she asked him where the hell he was! "I know you're in that rebellious phase and all that jazz but for the love of Mochi's fluffy hair, please let me know where you are going or at least text me if you want to come home late!"

"But Aunt Cass~" Hiro tugged his hair exasperatedly. He was just came home, drained out of energy, wanted nothing more than start hibernating in his room yet his aunt dragged him to the dining room and insisted on that family time only to accuse him for a crime he never did! "I never came home later than seven and you know it! Besides, there's no big project since last month so I always home around four."

Frowning, she replied. "What are you talking about, Hiro? You never came home later than seven or four, okay, fine, that is true. But then, you'll disappear! If you come home around four, you'll tiptoeing and walked out from the backdoor, never return until ungodly hour! You did the same if you're home at seven!"

"What?" Hiro knitted his brows. Confusion was painted on his elfin face. "Aunt Cass, I never do such thing. I locked myself at my room; doing my homework or hibernating. Maybe that's why you thought I was away."

Now, Aunt Cass' warm eyes widened, anger was replaced by something like fear and worry, the same expression when Tadashi or Hiro got sick. She brought one hand to her chest, "Hiro..." She started, voice dropped low, "You're not on your room. Don't you remember you just walked out through that backdoor in front of my face last night?"

A pause. "Huh?"

"Hiro, dear, I think--I think we should get you checked in the hospital."

~Flight~

When the sixteen years old genius--no, sixteen years old ordinary teen opened his eyes, he was sitting in a bench on a park. He was alone. Alone. Companionless. Just-Hiro inhaled and exhaled, inhaled, exhaled. He was alone? Why was he alone? Why nobody was beside him? Shouldn't someone was with him at the moment? With who? He couldn't remember. He panicked-panicked-panicked. Did the person went KABOOM?

He stood up, looked right and left. Right and left. There was a lot of people in the park. Of course. It was Saturday, after all. But-but-but he was alone. All alone. There was so many people surrounded him but no one was that person who should sit down next to him.

Just-Hiro started to wander aimlessly around the park, searching-searching-searching for that person. Who was this person? Girl? Guy? It was a he. A Tadashi. No. Not-Tadashi. Wait-wait-wait. It was Taaa~daaa~shiii. Ugh! He didn't care! Whichever was fine! He was scared-horrified-terrified. There was a lot of people walked past him and yet he still couldn't make sure if this person was alright, was safe and sound. He had seen this kind of view before; a lot of people walked (run?) to the opposite direction, terror in their eyes, heart hammering against his ribcage and then there was a KABOOM and everything turned into ashes, and dust, and debris. He didn't want him went KABOOM and became ashes. He didn't need ashes.

He needed-wanted-lusted-craved-wished NOTHING!

Just-Hiro squatted down, buried his head between hands and knees and cried-wept-sobbed-hiccuped, sob-sob-sob. He was lonely, he was forsaken. He didn't want to be and his head went throb-throb-throb and his heart went badump-badump-badump and he was FORSAKEN!

Why? Why? Why?

Someone put a big, warm hand on his shoulder. "Hiro? What are you doing here?" The voice was so-so-so familiar. He looked up and saw a man with concerned sugar brown eyes. "Whoa! Are you crying? Why--"

The messy haired teen throw his body toward the man, made him fell on his butt and hug-hug-hugged him tightly. Thank goodness he didn't go KABOOM or become ashes among burned down ruins. He inhaled deeply the scent of nicotine and nuzzled his head on the crook of Not-Tadashi's neck.

"Hey..." Not-Tadashi's voice was calm and soothing. He pat-pat-pat just-Hiro's head and the boy melted into his hug like a marshmallow comfortably swimming in hot cocoa. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"You're gone."

"Oh, mm... I'm sorry. You're sleeping and I want to buy something warm to drink--"

"You left me."

"Uh, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know you'll freak out."

"I'm searching for you."

"Hiro, I--"

"I'm scared." That you'll go KABOOM and disappear in the middle of lights and fumes and dusts and debris.

Just-Hiro must be sounded pathetic, aggravated, miserable because not-Tadashi rubbed his back and whispered in his ear; "I'm here, Hiro."

And Just-Hiro wanted to believe it.

But he could hear Hiro screamed;

_LIAR!_

~Flight~

Hiro refused to get checked because he was absolutely fine! Nothing was wrong! He reasoned to his aunt that maybe he just sleepwalking due of college oppression. At first, Aunt Cass bought it and let it slide.

But then, his friends came to the café, had him and the owner to sit with them to have a talk about Hiro. Apparently, Aunt Cass told them about her apprehension towards Hiro and asked them to watch over him. His friends agreed and found something weird on last Sunday so they decided to tell them. What they said was utterly nonsense. They said;

"We saw Hiro on the park with a guy. This guy looks awfully a lot like Tadashi but he's smoking and wore head-to-toe black outfits, kind of a punk. They were walking and we tried to call Hiro. The guy noticed us first and gestured to us as he told Hiro. Hiro saw us. But he frowned like he didn't know us and shook his head before walked away."

"That's a nonsense!" Hiro angrily said, "I was at my room that day! Like all day!"

But Aunt Cass shook her head before forlornly informed Hiro; "No, sweetie, you're out since noon on Sunday."

Hiro rolled his eyes exasperatedly and walked away. They tried to reason with him, saying a check up to make sure won't hurt. But Hiro was already wounded by their absurd concern. In the end, they reached an agreement; Baymax would be the one who diagnosed him and if something was wrong he'd go to the hospital.

He couldn't believe Baymax would betray him by diagnosing;

"Hiro is suffering from dissociative disorder."

This gotta be a joke. A really, really moronic joke.

~Flight~

"They said I am crazy." Just-Hiro said. He was sitting in Not-Tadashi's garage-turns-gallery again, sitting on a couch with legs bended, arms crossed on top of it and head rested there. Not-Tadashi's hands stop working, pried his eyes away from his canvas.

"Crazy for me, they mean?" The younger boy snorted;

"Idiot."

"You know, I'm crazy about you. I'm working on a painting of you instead of working for college's projects."

"Moron McDoofus."

"Who are they you're talking about?"

Hm? They were--were--people with funny faces and nerdy fashion. And one of them was a marshmallow. A giant marshmallow. Was it a human? "I dunno. But they said I am crazy."

"Well," Not-Tadashi smiled, and just-Hiro could see that free smile from between his bangs. He was handsome, he was perfect, he was there, he didn't go KABOOM or become ashes. Just-Hiro's hands twitched, wanted-lusted-craved to brush-brush his fingertips all over not-Tadashi's face or place his ear right above his heart to hear the melodious lullaby of steady thud-thud-thud. The older guy was back to his painting as he said; "Even if you're crazy, as long as you remember me, I'm good."

There was a warm and fuzzy feeling in his belly and he could sense the marshmallow-swimming-in-hot-cocoa feeling all over again. Butterflies were dancing-dancing-dancing and waltzing-waltzing as if they threw a ball in his stomach. He wondered if he could join the ball with Not-Tadashi because-b'cuz-cuz he was elated! Really really really elated. Yeah, this was right, this was perfect; this was how everything supposed to be. The main point to be a Tadashi was the ability to make everything okay. Not-Tadashi was Tadashi and Tadashi was Not-Tadashi and it didn't matter. So what if Not-Tadashi was fake? He was still Tadashi, a Taaa~daaa~shiii~. Because the real people (even if he couldn't recall who the hell these people were) said he was crazy and it was not okay for them, but this fake, this replica, said it was okay. In short, he believed it was okay to cling to the fake.

He wanted to hug-hug-hug and kiss-kiss-kiss and cuddle-cuddle-cuddle with the man. He wanted-needed-craved for the okay feeling, for making the error became normal. So he walked toward the man who declared to be his nothing, set aside palette and brushes and sat on his lap.

"Can I kiss you?" Just-Hiro asked. He bumped their foreheads together as his hands cupped the man's face.

Not-Tadashi laughed. "I always wait for you to kiss me first and now you need to ask? Who's the idiot now?"

Just-Hiro was in seventh heaven.

Taaa~daaa~shiii~

~Flight~

He was really not in the mood for talking with his friends now. He even deactivated Baymax and kicked the bot's station to Tadashi's room before slamming the divider shut furiously. Served that traitor right, Hiro thought angrily. What about Aunt Cass? Well, he didn't have the heart to give her silent treatment so he pretended that the talk was never happened and simply left the scene if the topic was brought up again.

They tried to get him see a doctor specialized in the mental health care. It was stupid. Like seriously? He had went to a psychiatrist for half a year when he was fifteen because Aunt Cass found out he had made a chip with Tadashi's artificial voice in it and talked to it every night. And now, they wanted him to see a specialist in mental health? What a joke.

But then, at last, Aunt Cass cried and begged him to get himself checked. She couldn't bear to see him like this. This broken. This vulnerable. And despite his anger he let his aunt drove him to the San Fransokyo Central Hospital. They waited in deafening silence; Hiro glaring to the pure white wall across him and Aunt Cass opened her mouth only to shut them again and again, for ten minutes. Ten minutes which felt like eternity. Hiro was tempted to yell; "That's it!" and stomped out.

Aunt Cass sighed in relief when Hiro's name was finally called. They went in and were greeted with a too bright smile from a man named Hart Smith. The doctor asked him questions which he answered with cynical; "Yes.", " No.", "You tell me.", "Do I really have to answer that?", and " Really? Did you just ask me that?" So in the end, Aunt Cass did all the talking.

In the end, the doctor laced his fingers and said; "Ma'am, your nephew is suffering a dissociative disorder. Presumably Dissociative Fugue or Dissociative Identity Disorder."

Hiro first thought was; what a bullshit.

He promised to Aunt Cass (because she seemed like she would eat all cakes in the café if he didn't) he would through all treatments they offered to get better, but he insisted to wait until holiday to start an intensive treatments.

He pulled Baymax' station from Tadashi's room and reactivated the personal healthcare companion after they got home. The two of them stared at each other until Hiro said; "You're right, buddy, I have that disorder."

He grabbed one blank journal and decided to write a diary, just to keep track of what he did on a day. Maybe if he write twice a day; morning and night, he would know what his other self did. If that other (and if he did another personality) wrote a diary too, indeed. He didn't text his friends, Aunt Cass probably had done it for him. She knew her nephew held grudge for days. It would pass, though, if they were willing to pretend nothing was going on, that is.

Even though he wrote a diary twice a day, he still couldn't figure out if he did have other personality because everything he wrote was written when he was sober, and nothing seemed off. But the growing collection of unfamiliar, oversized T-shirts which smelled like nicotine and had scary prints on it prove otherwise. It worried him for only a brief moment. He didn't know why but the smell of nicotine and alien masculine cologne somehow felt soothing. So he started wandering alone, thinking that maybe his other personality had interacted with several people, especially the one who owned those T-shirts. If those people recognized him, he could ask them. The result? Nilch.

This anomaly stressed him out. In addition, finals week was two weeks away and there was projects and assignments needed to be done. He was exhausted, tired, and pissed. Around this time, Aunt Cass usually left him alone because he was pretty snappy. But his friends seemed to be oblivious about this and kept asking him things like; "How's the medication?", "Is there any change?", "Are you okay?", so on and so forth.

Today, Fred asked; " Uh, so, Hiro, remember this guy who resembles Tadashi--"

"Oh my God, STOP!" He snapped so loud even people who were standing under a tree ten steps away stopped their conversation to glanced at them. They were walking at SFIT yard toward their usual picnic table. But now, Hiro was tempted to just go home and sulk all day. "I don't fucking know, okay?"

"Hiro, turn it down! People are staring at us." Gogo hissed.

"Oh, really? They are staring? Guess what? I think I don't give a damn if they stare at me because I have a fuckin' mental disorder!" He screamed. He was frustrated and exasperated and vexed.

Honey Lemon, Gogo, Wasabi, and Fred's expression turned from sad and worry into disbelief; eyes widened and mouth agape as they stared past his shoulder. Confused, he was about to turn on his heels to see what made them aghast when a pair of hands circled around his abdomen, successfully elicited a yelp from him.

"Hiroo~~ do you wanna go play with meeeeee?" The man's sung.

"What--" He turned his head, mouth opened to yell at this maniac only to freeze at the sight of a man with Tadashi's face.

The man, oblivious to Hiro's baffled expression, then grinned to the rest of the gang who were as baffled as Hiro. "Hey, there! You guys were the one who waved at us at the park last time, right? Sorry, but Hiro insisted that he didn't know you guys. What a terrible friend you got, eh?"

Snapped out of his reverie, Hiro broke free from the man's grasp and turned briskly to face him. "What the hell?" He breathed out, taking in the man's painfully identical face to Tadashi, staring as if he just saw an apparition of his dead brother.

This stranger smiled sheepishly. "Okay, umm... You must be wondering why the hell I am here, right? Soo... Do you remember that you left your hoodie some time ago? Well, I did the laundry yesterday and found your nerdy SFIT hoodie!" He fished out a blue hoodie with SFIT logo printed on it and handed it to the young prodigy which he held with dumbfounded expression painted all over his face. He examined the hoodie in case the man was lying but no, it was his mysteriously-vanished hoodie. The little 'H' embroidery, courtesy of Aunt Cass, let him know that fact. "That's how I found out that you're a genius nerd who goes to this special school for nerdiest nerd." He laughed afterward.

"I--"

"Nope. Don't say a thing." He ruffled Hiro's hair affectionately and lord that sincere smiling face made his heart constricted and his stomach churned. "I'm proud to boast to the whole world that I had a genius dork for a boyfriend."

A pause. Hiro exhaled shakily, gulped down all nervousness and jittery feelings he got before voiced out; "I-I'm sorry but--who are you?"

This doppelganger laughed again, threw his head back as he did before he shook his head when the laughter died down. "Okay. I'm sorry for surprising you like this. I know that you don't like it if I'm being nosy about your personal life but, I got overexcited when I found out." He laughed again sheepishly.

"No, seriously." He said. This is absurd. Nonsense. Ludicrous. Madness. "Who are you?"

The man shifted his weight from foot to foot, rubbed the back of his neck and licked his lips. "C'mon, are you really that mad at me?" But Hiro's expression remained the same; perplexed, flummoxed. "Uh... it's getting weird now, I start to believe that you really don't recognize me." He laughed nervously. "Don't scare me like that, okay?"

Hiro shook his head slowly, telling the man before him that nope, he wasn't kidding.

A pause, two nervous laughs, the man's smile finally faded into nothing. A realization dawned on him and his expression was now terrified, betrayed, hurt, and Hiro thought he was on the verge of crying.

"Who are you?"

The man finally shed tears. Far, far, on the back of his head, in the depth of his unconsciousness, he heard someone crying as devastated as the man before him.

Crying. Bawling. Weeping. Wailing...

Hiro shed tears as well.

~Flight~

_They said I have Dissociative Disorder._

_I don't want to believe it. It was ridiculous._

_-Hiro's journal. Entry 1-_

~Flight~

_Today, I broke a man's heart._

Oddly enough, it broke mine too.

-Hiro's journal. Entry 64-

~Flight~

_there is lapses and gaps in my memories._

_it confuses me but doesn't scare me._

_maybe i was dreaming._

_but maybe i am suffering from dementia._

_i need-lusted-craved-longed-wanted a way out, an escape, an exit... a salvation... or i just need NOTHING._

_but my nothing has gone. he didn't went kaboom, lose in fumes and lights and debris, or become ashes._

_he just gone. somewhere in my mind (if i have one) i think i am the reason he was gone._

_-Hiro's journal. Entry 82-_

~Flight~

Hiro stared at the last entry on his journal numbly. It was smudged here and there with dots of water, made the blue ink smeared here and there. It was three in the morning and he was pretty sure he was sleeping with Mochi on his bed but now he found himself sitting on his swivel chair, staring down at his journal. He blinked once and a single tear slid down his cheek. What a funny coincidence.

He read what was written there once. Twice. Thrice.

Finally, he grabbed his pen. The one with black ink.

~Flight~

_I often think about myself nowadays. Wondering how another person with his own heart, will, and desire could live within me._

_And sometimes, I dream about me crying in a pitch dark space._

_But I think it was not me. It was you._

_No wonder you seek for salvation because I too craving for it._

_I asked myself, where do you live all this time?_

_You are the one who took all my sadness and cry for me within my heart._

_You live somewhere in between dream and reality. In betwixt and between._

_We didn't ask for more than nothing. Nothing is all we asked for. Because nothing last forever._

_But at the same time nothing is impossible._

_It is true. Because I lost my nothing and you too lost yours._

_In your case, It might be my fault. On the other hand, I angrily thought why didn't you take over and held his hands? But then I think you're just tired of running and hiding things._

_I don't know._

_You are me. And I am you. But then, you are not me and I am not you. There are times where I am just me and you are just you. But all in all we are one individual. In the end, we make the same mistake; we let go the hand we should hold._

_And then, here we are. All alone in this life. Forsaken._

_We failed at our attempt to sprout wings and take flight._

_-Hiro's journal. Entry 82-_

~Flight~

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you like it or not. ;)


End file.
